“For speed, I suggest you take the direct route back. Hold tight.” With that, Hotep-Ra wheeled his Dragon Boat around and dived into the abyss.

43

ROCKY TIMES

Marcellus opened his eyes and saw nothing. He tried to sit up and hit his head. Marcellus groaned. Where was he?

And then he remembered. He remembered the Ring Wizards down in his precious Fyre Chamber, trying to destroy his delicate, beautiful Fyre. He remembered his long, painful climb up through the escape burrow, and he remembered that he had to get to Marcia and warn her what was happening. But most of all he remembered how angry he was—and why. Spurred on by his fury, Marcellus attacked the rockfall that was blocking his way. His hands found a gap and methodically he began removing each stone and sending it rolling down the burrow behind him.

Down in the Chamber of Fyre, with a wall of flames roaring above and the dizzying drop below, Duglius Drummin was drumming the narrow rim of the Cauldron and keeping an anxious watch. The brilliant orange flames from the coal were shooting high into the air, dancing and whirling as they were sucked up into the Vents, feeding on the gases that were drawn up with them. Duglius wore a grim smile. He did not like to see the flames, but he knew that they were a necessary evil. As long as the coal burned on top, the delicate blue flame of the Alchemie Fyre below was protected. And in the vast hoppers inside the cavern roof, Duglius knew there was still a large store of coal left.

Duglius continued along the rim—his suckered feet protected by their heat pads—drumming the metal as he went. The Cauldron was still intact but there was a duller sound to the ring of the hammer, which worried him. Something was changing. As Duglius listened yet again to the cling of his hammer, out of the heat haze he saw the fearful shapes of the Ring Wizards coming toward him along the Inspection Walkway. Steadfastly, the old Drummin carried on drumming. As he drew near and saw the Ring Wizards’ green armor shimmering in the glare, their dark cloaks flying out in the updraft of the flames and their wild eyes shining with excitement, Duglius could not help but hold his breath in fear; but he kept going and passed by with no harm. The Ring Wizards, like all Wizards, treated Drummins as vermin and paid them no attention—although this had not stopped them from destroying two Drummin sets heading for the Control Room for the fun of it. This time, to Duglius’s relief, they paid him no attention and he continued safely on his way.

Duglius found his second-in-command, Perius Drummin, waiting for him on the Viewing Station.

There’s rockfall a-coming down the escape burrow, Duglius Drummin, Perius signed. Wish you I do go to see what is to see?

I shall go to see, Perius Drummin. You will please take over from me.

I will take over from you, Duglius Drummin.

Thank you, Perius Drummin. Please open the Cauldron Heat Vents to the Ice Tunnels. It is time.

It is time, Duglius Drummin, Perius agreed.

Duglius’s climb up the escape burrow was considerably faster than Marcellus’s, but it was made more difficult by the rocks that came hurtling down. It was a slightly bruised Duglius who reached Marcellus just as he was clearing the very last rock away. A soft touch on his foot told Marcellus that Duglius was there.

While Duglius was climbing up, the Dragon Boat was flying down—into the abyss. Around and around she went, spiralling down into the depths of the canyon that encircled the House of Foryx. Hotep-Ra stood at the tiller, concentrating hard on keeping the wing tips of his Dragon Boat safely away from the sheer rock of the canyon walls. It would have been a testing task for any pilot, but for one who had not flown for many thousands of years, it was a huge challenge.

No one wanted to distract Hotep-Ra. Jenna, Nicko, Septimus and Aunt Zelda had no choice but to stare silently into the mist, notice how cold it got as they went ever deeper and listen to the screams of whatever-it-was that haunted the abyss. They hoped that Hotep-Ra had a good reason for what he was doing.

At last the Dragon Boat landed with a swooooosh and a plume of ice-cold water sprayed into the boat. She settled into the pool of dank water that lay on the floor of the abyss, folded her wings and fastidiously arched her tail out of the water. The emerald green of the dragon’s eyes shone through the dusky gloom as she turned her head and looked at Hotep-Ra as if to ask what he thought he was doing coming to such a forsaken place.

Hotep-Ra enlightened neither his dragon nor his crew. He took a pinch of Sprite Sand from his pocket and held it in his fist. Then, as though sowing seed, he threw his arm out and a cluster of tiny lights flew up from his hand. The Sprites swirled into the air and gathered around Hotep-Ra like a swarm of bees, bathing him in a bright light. Septimus was entranced. He had read about ancient Lighting Sprites, whose Magyk had been lost long ago. He had thought what a lovely idea they were—little personal spheres of light that followed you around, and he had heard that some Guiding Sprites even showed you the way.